


Heere, We See A Queer (aka the one where Jeremy realizes his sexuality)

by H0n3yK1tt3n



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: A little bit of both?, Angst?, Bi, Coming Out, Gay, Help I'm an innocent bean and I don't know how boy puberty works, He’s both, I wrote this instead of my other fic, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, Jeremy is a squeaky twink, M/M, Me trying not to clog up the tags and failing heheheheheh, Pre-Canon, Pre-Squip, The first chapter does kinda stand by itself tho...., This was supposed to be a one shot......, Uh..., and a Twinkie squeak, and then it wasn't....., coming to terms with sexuality, fluff?, i'm dumb, idk tbh, ignore the fact that it's uncompleted you can just read it and all is well, no regrets, what else is new tho?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-04-18 14:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14215059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H0n3yK1tt3n/pseuds/H0n3yK1tt3n
Summary: Freshman year. Jer didn't have a girlfriend or a clue. He just might be into a dude. Ain't that dandy?In all seriousness, summer vacation has ended and the boys are off to high school. It's the first time they're seeing each other in almost three months, and a lot can change in that time. Not in a bad way. Just in a way.(Aka puberty hits Michael in the face like a brick and Jeremy doesn't know what to do.)





	1. Freshman Year? More Like Freshman Fears, Or Get Me Out Of Here

**Author's Note:**

> This has kinda been on the back burner since I started writing YCHFYGJ. Though the stories my cross-reference a little, you don't have to have read one to understand the other. Those who have read my other fic may recognize this as a flashback type thing, so you may get some enjoyment out of that. ;) This was an rp I did with ArcticWind, I'm changing it up a little, they can sue me for it.
> 
> Oh also! Random capitalization in the middle of words signify vOIce crAckInG

The last day of eighth grade was both a relief and a downward spiral into dread. Dread and saltiness towards Michael's parents. On one hand, middle school was over and done with, so now it's just a little less than three months of not dealing with the stress and bullshit that comes with school. Ya know, time to play video games with your best friend and stay up way too late just because you can, and because it's not like you have anywhere to be the next day.

On the other hand, Michael would be out of state for the majority of the summer with his family. Not only with his moms and dads, but with other extended family and cousins from the Philippines.

It was a bizarre and somewhat ironic case with Michael's parents. Or maybe it wasn't ironic, but those who were told the story found it pretty funny. Hearing that Michael had four parents might lead one to think that his parents divorced and remarried, so that he had a step-mom and a step-dad. You know, typical falling out of love and lots of other really depressing stuff and overall not good family drama. But really, that wasn't the case at all.

His biological mom and dad hadn't realized until after they had their second child (that being Michael) that neither of them were actually straight. They came out to each other and were beyond relieved that there would be no bad blood or hard feelings between them. They were still really heckin good friends, and they resolved that this would be something they could look back on and laugh about since they both found it pretty hilarious. His mom got a girlfriend and his dad got a boyfriend, eventually they both moved in and before you could say _'frickity frack, the snick snack is back'_ , Michael had four parents. And it was a freaking blast.

However, twice as many parents meant twice as many cousins and grandparents and aunts and uncles to meet. Hence, why his visit would consist of almost the whole summer. This prompted Michael and Jeremy to spend the entire first few weeks of June sleeping over at each other's houses and making the most out of what little time they had before the former had to go, much to the dismay of the latter. So Jeremy was left alone for the rest of June and all of July, which was pretty freaking depressing. He was playing all his games single player and spending the vast majority of his break cooped up in his room, texting Michael whenever he wasn't doing something major with his family, often hearing about said major thing with his family. Until the last week of August rolled around.

Michael returned to New Jersey two days before the first day of school, and Jeremy knew that he would no doubt be busy unpacking and in tired zombie mode beyond all logical reason. (Apparently jet lag was a very real thing.) So instead of going to his house to leave him even more socially and physically drained than he already was, he just sent him stupid gifs, as well as trailers and art for video games that would be coming out before the end of the year.

But mostly stupid gifs.

And Michael appreciated them, as he printed off his schedule from the Middle Borough High School website.

Then, the first day was upon them.

\---

Jeremy sat against a wall, fiddling with his phone. There was nothing better to do since Michael wasn't there for him to talk to yet, and he was anxious that his friend wouldn't be there in time and he'd have to go the first couple of hours at this new school alone. Or worse, go the entire day alone. He didn't know any of the other students around him and wasn't friends with any familiar faces he did happen to see.

For the first time since middle school, Jeremy was one of the little kids. When you're in sixth grade, you look up to the eighth graders as an example and for their wisdom of the school they'd spent more of their life in. Well, mostly because older apparently equals cooler to an eleven to twelve-year-old's brain, but same difference. Then once you yourself hit eighth grade, you get the satisfaction of being the one all the little sixlets look up to. And the sevies/seventh graders are kinda just the middle child no one cares about.

But thus, the cycle repeats. The freshmen are the babies of high school, and everyone looks up to the seniors. Suppose sophomores and juniors were both the neglected middle children. And apparently when you're a freshman on the first day, pretty much everyone can tell. They're stereotypically the annoying brats that are all _'We're finally in high school! We're so mature! Manic laughing!'_ Even when walking down the hall, several older students would shoot Jeremy a look of disgust, groaning with a growled 'freshman' under their breath. And it became apparent that eighth graders went straight from the top to the bottom just by progressing into ninth grade.

It was a lot, and the day would be starting soon. Michael was still nowhere to be seen, which only made Jeremy feel even more anxious, alone, and overall out of place. He pulled up the conversation with his friend on his phone and started typing with hasty thumbs.

 

Jeremy:  
<Please say you're on your way dude, I feel like a freaking 6th grader again>  
<Like all the guys are tall as hell, getting trampled is a very real issue here>

Michael:  
<I'm on my way>  
<Sorry for the wait, but my parents had to smother me this morning since it's the first day of high school>

Jeremy:  
<My dad woke me up early for that sole purpose, I know the feeling>

Michael:  
<I have 4 parents and each of them were being extra smothery. Not very fun, but they paid me back with a slushee>

Jeremy:  
<I was paid back by being almost an hour and a half early>  
<So I found a corner to catch up on sleep and be a pitifully awkward little shit in>  
<Then I was kicked out of my home sweet corner cuz apparently a friend group had already claimed it, I'm guessing they were juniors>  
><So yeah>  
<Not very fun>

Michael:  
<Geez... Sorry for not bein there man>

Jeremy:  
<Help my ears are bleeding>

Michael:  
<Who's scream singing and what are they scream singing?>

Jeremy:  
<Brooke and Chloe>  
<Some poppy bullshit>

Michael:  
<Which Chloe?>

Jeremy:  
<Valentine, I think the other one moved>

Michael:  
<I will supply you with Bob Marley on full blast>

Jeremy:  
<No longer necessary, Jake is flirting with one or both of them now>

Michael:  
<I will supply you with YouTube videos as eye bleach>

Jeremy:  
<I owe you my life>

Michael:  
<I'm in front of the school now, prey I make it in alive>

Jeremy:  
<*pray>

Michael:  
<Shut up smartass>

 

Jeremy chuckled at the last text and slipped his phone into his pocket, immediately feeling awkward upon standing up to step away from his comfort wall. Geez, _'awkward'_ is the word of the day now, isn't it? Well, it's accurate, that much is true. Though he did feel a bit better knowing that Michael was just a doorway and a big honking group of hormonal high schoolers away from him, which was enough to make him smile. But not too widely because then it would look like he was smiling for no reason since he was standing all by himself.

He almost instinctively took his phone back out, then realized that texting Michael would be pointless if he was about to see him in person in less than a minute. God, he was so stupid sometimes. He jumped when he heard a call from behind.

"Hey, Jeremy!"

The inflection was familiar.

The voice wasn't.

Jeremy turned in confusion, and was not the slightest bit prepared for who was walking over to him, tall, dark and...

"Michael?!"

Everything he thought he knew was compromised within the span of about half a second. White headphones he'd gotten for his most recent birthday around his neck and cherry slushee in-hand, his best friend stood before him with a goofy grin... Significantly taller than him.

Hold on.

Back that ass up a minute.

For as long as he could remember, Jeremy had always been taller than Michael by about an inch or so, even though they did juggle back and forth a small bit over the years. But last time he checked, _he_ was taller than _Michael_ . _Not_ the other way around. He had to physically take a step back, half to catch himself from falling on his ass, and half so that he didn't have to crane his neck upward at such a sharp angle. He almost wanted to look straight back down and sew his chin to his chest because _damn_ , did Michael's face always look like that?? Not because he looked horrible, _NO_ no no, not at all. In all honesty, it looked like his face was sculpted by the gods themselves. Jeremy felt the back of his neck start to heat up, and it didn't even occur to him that he was cold-dead staring his friend directly in the face with his jaw just about hitting the goddamn floor.

Michael chuckled at the utter bewilderment and flabbergasted...ness on Jeremy's pink, wide-eyed face. "What's the matter, Jer? Not used to looking up at your best buddy?" His voice was noticeably deeper, which only added to the shorter boy's complete lack of knowledge as to what the hell he was supposed to be doing or feeling or anything...ing. Holy _shit_ , his voice. He did _not_ used to sound like that. He could host a goddamn radio show, or make Let's Plays like Markiplier. What the hell?

Jeremy's eyes flicked up and down from Michael's face to his shoes, as if to check and make sure that he really was as tall as he looked and that he wasn't just imagining it. Wait, he asked Jeremy a question. Um, crap, which shocking thing was it about again? Voice, face, height- HEIGHT. He's not used to looking up at Michael. "Uhh! N-not exactly, no!" Jeremy stammered, trying to stand on his tiptoes to be the same height as the boy (who looks considerably less than boy-like now, dear _God..._ ). Just on his feet, he only went up to about the bottom of his friend's ear, and the added boost didn't even get him on eye level with the giant. It barely felt like it did anything. "You freaking shot up, dude!"

Michael stood on his own toes in a tease, very clearly trying not to smirk evilly at Jeremy's frustrated strain, and eventual defeated pout. "I know, right?! I was shocked myself, dude." He laughed, guiding the straw from his icy drink into his mouth.

And Jeremy simply had to address one of the many elephants in the room, in a less than subtle way. "Were you shocked when your voice went down three octaves???" He asked just a little too quickly. He didn't want to speak for too long, because then Michael wouldn't be speaking, and if Michael wasn't speaking, Jeremy wasn't hearing his angel choir voice. So, wait, he's comparing Michael's voice to angels now? That's weird. He's just overwhelmed, that's all. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

Still in the middle of his slurp, newly-declared Angel Voice shook his head. "It didn't automatically stay like this, actually. There were a lot of really bad keys before it decided to pick a pitch to stay at." Michael thought over his words for a moment. "...did I say pitch or bitch just then? I honestly couldn't tell."

_'Whatever you said, you sounded amazing saying it. Jesus Christ, man,_ shit! _Can I, like, marry your voice? Please?!'_

That's what Jeremy almost said. He stopped himself, fortunately. He only _barely_ stopped himself, unfortunately. "Whatev- uh, d- I, um... I-I didn't notice." He stumbled over 90% of his words. Good save, bro, really. Amazing job, wonderful, he doesn't suspect a thing. Besides, _'can I marry your voice?'_ What straight guy says that to his (admittedly gay) best friend of ten years? Who he's only ever liked as a friend, and has only ever been liked in return as a friend. (You know, despite the gay.) Who doesn't look much like the child he knew him as. Who looks more like he's seventeen than he looks fourteen. Who looks and sounds exactly like he could be in a porno. Who's mere presence is making the blood rush to said straight guy's face and... Not face. Oh my God, Jer, stop staring, you look like a creep. Worse than that, you look like a complete idiot. Where is your brain right now? Obviously not in your skull, nope. Nuh-uh. Not at all. Now pray to God it doesn't wind up even more in the gutter than it already is. Cover up El Presidente while you're at it, he isn't welcome. Idiot, you're still staring.

If Michael had noticed the socially unacceptable amount of intense eye contact from the very conflicted Jeremy standing before him, he ignored it flawlessly. "Hm, anyway. It got preeetty bad, so I'm glad it's made up its stupid mind and is done changing." That was something that peaked the boy's interest. "Your voice is done changing?" Michael shrugged. "As far as I can tell."

Jeremy's stomach did a flip, he liked the deeper voice and was glad that it was here to stay. But his internal celebration was quickly replaced by the thought of his own misfortune. "Dammit!" He whined. "I can't make fun of you for sounding like a dying seal!" Yes, _PLEASE_ . Think about dying seals. Get your mind away from what it would sound like if Michael was saying _less than_ PG-rated things. Think about dying seals, um, the unholy screeching of Brooke and Chloe, the unholy screeching of Brooke and Chloe's raptor ancestors, the unholy, boiling rage of playing Dark Souls, cheese stains that don't wash out of clothes no matter how much bleach and other cleaning shit you use. Because whatever the hell the ingredients are in that 7-Eleven nacho cheese, they make it the most stubborn goddamn cheese to ever come into contact with every single one of Jeremy's ruined pairs of pants- UM, SHIRTS. Shirts, and the occasional sock, you know, however in God's name that even happens. Wait, we're talking about voices, BRING IT BACK TO DYING SEALS AND RAPTOR SCREECHING. "Nope! But I might still have the opportunity to do that to you." Michael mused singsong-ing-ly... If that's even a word.

The shorter boy rolled his eyes. "Hopefully nOt." Jeremy slapped his hands over his mouth, unable to stop the squeak that had already escaped his throat. After a shocked beat, he shut his eyes and let out an embarrassed groan, or whine, depending on how you hear it. Of all the times his voice could've chosen to crack, it had to choose now. Michael tried to muffle his snicker, much to Jeremy's annoyed fluster. He cleared his throat and cocked an eyebrow at his shorter friend. "You were saying?" He smirked. After a moment, Jeremy brought his hands down and crossed his arms over his chest. "Screw you, that's what..."

Michael ruffled the boy's already messy hair, letting out an amused sigh as Jeremy tried and failed to avoid his friend's larger hand. (Don't elaborate on that thought more, don't do it, Jer. Don't do it. DON'T.) "You crack me up, Jer." He shot finger guns at Jeremy, grinning like a dork. "Ah? Get it?"

All Jeremy could do in return was scowl, hoping he didn't look like an angry puppy; too harmless and funny to be afraid of. "Oh HAR dee har, you're sooOo hilArious..." He deadpanned, doing his best to ignore the fact that he sounded like he swallowed a recorder. His friend scoffed jokingly. "And you're adorable, what's your point?"

Wait.

_'And you're'_ WHAT, he said?

"ADORable?!?!"

Aw shit... So he looked even more like an angry puppy than he feared, Michael found his frustration cute. _Cute_ . He dared not imagine what shade of red his face was, any hue would be equally humiliating. (Hey, maybe they would name the shade of red _HUE_ miliation.) That was doing about a million and a half things to Jeremy's brain. Michael couldn't take him seriously, not that they could ever take each other seriously, but the current circumstances made this a different case. They would often call each other out for dumb things they did or jokingly call a weird noise beautiful or shmexy, sounding completely serious. And that's probably all the comment was, but like...

What made it feel different?

"Yes, adorable. Especially with your voice cracks."

Maaaaybe that's what.

Jeremy groaned. "I have nOthing to use against yooouuu, whYYyyyy?"

"Because I wasn't here for you to embarrass me."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock..."

Michael chuckled some more and Jeremy blushed some more. Christ, this guy is gonna be the death of him... "Why don't you just shut up with yoU and your-! B-buttery voice!" Great insult. 10/10 would recommend. "...W-What classes do you have?"

The taller teen raised an eyebrow at him. "Buttery voice? Pfff..." He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the folded up paper, handing it to his friend. "I don't knOw!" Jeremy snatched the schedule away, sticking his nose in it the moment he managed to unfold it and ignoring the proceeding snicker from the other boy. For the most part, he was trying to hide his face from Michael. Remembering his own schedule was in his other hand, he held it up next to his friend's. Again, mostly to keep his face concealed.

"See any classes we have together?"

Huh? Oh yeah, that was the excuse he used. The shorter teen's eyes jumped from one paper to the other, looking for any class periods they shared. Thankfully, there were quite a few. (No like really, thank _God_ they wouldn't be alone most days.) "Uuummmm... 1st for English, 3rd for Gym, 5th for Bio, and 6th for Math. And that's just this semester." So woohoo, Jeremy wouldn't be going through this game known as high school in single player mode, his best friend would be right by his side the vast majority of the time. That was awesome! He wouldn't have it any other way.

However, Michael constantly being there meant that Jeremy would constantly be flustered by how puberty was _very_ kind to his best friend. Like, _hoooooly shit_ , what even. It seemed like just yesterday that Jeremy didn't have to physically look up at Michael or hear his voice vibrate around in his head in a way that made him feel really...

Wait.

Oh God, no way.

No.

It can't be.

Did Jeremy really think Michael's voice was _SEXY_?

_What?!_

No.

Ok, scrap the thing he was going to say, the voice vibrating in his head made him feel really _confused_ . Jeremy never had a thought like that with any _guy’s_ voice, much less his best friend's. Sure, he could appreciate when a voice sounded nice, but _not_ like that. Actually, he was kind of doing that the entire time Michael was standing in front if him, wasn't he. (See also _'what it would sound like if Michael was saying_ less than _PG-rated things'_ and _'looks and sounds exactly like he could be in a porno.'_ )

But that didn't mean anything, did it? Maybe he was just jealous that Michael was now objectively good-looking. Maybe Jeremy was just jealous that he wasn't taller, or that it sounded like there was a squeaky toy in his throat, or the fact that he still had to deal with his stupid braces making everything more difficult when Michael could flash a perfect smile whenever he wanted.

"Sweet, at least we have classes together."

Jeremy immediately resolved to think about it some other time. "MmHM!" He squeaked, shoving Michael's schedule into his chest and _NO_ , he most certainly did _NOT_ let his hand linger there for half a second longer than necessary, how _DARE_ you think such a thing! The shorter teen glued his eyes to the ground, mentally beating himself up for everything that was running through his mind between now and Michael arriving before him. He's just jealous, that's all it is! If his friend wasn't gay, girls would practically be throwing themselves at him. Or since he _is_ gay, all the other gay guys would be doing the same thing. Jeremy would even- wait no, shut up, you're not thinking about that!

Though he couldn't fully see Michael's face, Jeremy did see that he had leaned over to be within view through his bangs. "You doing ok, Jer?" The worry was in both his eyes and his voice. Voice? Yeah no, Jeremy had been freaking out about that for the past five or so minutes. Eyes? Geez... Why did it take him this long to notice what a nice shade of brown they were? Did Michael know? Did he ever get compliments like that? If he didn't, he should. Maybe Jeremy could even be the first one to let him know that he had pretty eyes, he could stare into them for hours. Maybe he could tell Michael that he had been low-key checking him out ever since he walked through the door and _that_ was why he was so off. He could be honest, there was no reason for him to lie. It wasn't like he would be compromising his friendship or anything stupid like that.

Michael made a face, something between discomfort and confusion. Wait, Jeremy had been staring the entire time! Changethesubject, changethesubjectCHANGETHESUBJECT.

" _PEAChy!_ I uh! I think there's some orientationthingintheauditoriumSOOO wE should go dO that!" Jeremy made a move to run in some direction that probably wasn't even where the auditorium was, but he was pulled back by the wrist, having a sort of cartoonish rebound back to Michael. And of course, he just had to overcompensate and forget where the hell his center of gravity was until his friend's hands were placed squarely on his shoulders so they were face to face.

"Ya know, dude, I totally get what's going on." Michael said plainly, making Jeremy's stomach flip. "What...?" He choked out, suddenly being a thousand times more convinced that he somehow ruined everything because apparently Michael was telepathic like Professor X. Cripes, was he being that obvious??? Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit-

"You're nervous. It's a new school. It's big, it's scary, you don't really know what to do with yourself, I get it."

...Oh.

Uh yeah, sure. Let's go with that.

"But you don't have to go it alone. Hell, ya kinda have no choice." Michael gave a half-hearted laugh, implying that he was also nervous to some degree. Jeremy wasn't sure if that was helping him at the moment, but he let his friend continue on. It seemed like the best option. If ever he was overwhelmed, he would just listen to Michael talk. It literally didn't even matter what he was saying, Jeremy was able to find a way to calm himself down as long as words were coming out of his friend's mouth. Whether he was being told everything would be alright or if he was being distracted by whatever the stressor was by a funny story, Jeremy could always count on Michael clear his head if he was panicking about something little or stupid. Michael was awesome like that, he was a great person and the greatest friend anyone could ask for.

Why does it seem like something about that is more than platonic though?

Ya know what, just don't think about it right now. Just focus on the fact that Michael is making an effort to help.

Seeming half sheepish and half like he was joking, Michael kept on talking away. "I mean, if I had to go to school knowing that I didn't have someone like you to keep me sane all day, I wouldn't even bother getting up." It was Jeremy's turn to give a nervous laugh, but some part of it was genuine. Sure, he knew it was easier to do things you didn't like if you were with someone you did like, but hearing it from his friend out loud still made him flush a bit. That wasn't even necessarily out of embarrassment that he was getting some form of a compliment out of someone _‘objectively good-looking'_ , the compliment _itself_ was flattering enough.

What could he say? He had self-esteem and self-image issues, he needed the validation sometimes.

And no one knew that better than Michael, who would end up basically giving Jeremy a TedTalk about how awesome he was whenever he was having an _'I don't matter'_ episode. He was just great like that, he always knew how to make Jeremy feel better. When to be serious, when to joke around, he just understood Jeremy and how he worked. One would hope so at least, after ten years of friendship, it would only make sense that they know next to everything about each other. As creepy as that may sound, but who cared. With another pat on his shoulder and another gigawatt grin, Michael put forth his last bit of reassurance. "So hey. As long as we've got each other's backs, we'll be fine." Jeremy couldn't help but smile back, even if he was hyper aware of the fact that Michael's face was kinda-sorta right there and the hands on his shoulders kinda-sorta made his skin burn under the points of contact.

With that, a thought dawned upon him.

"Where'd your slushee go?"

Snorting at the blunt turn of the conversation, Michael gestured to the right at a point behind Jeremy. "Your water bottle pocket."

After a look of confusion, the shorter teen twisted around to see that yeah, the 7-Eleven cup was resting in the mesh pocket on the right side of his backpack. "The hellz?? How long has it been there???" How had he not noticed it sooner? The hands on his shoulders slid off, which he tried convincing himself he _didn’t_ miss. "Ever since I saved you from falling on your face when you were trying to run away." Michael answered with a nonchalant shrug that Jeremy could see in his peripherals. Wow. Sneaky. With a reluctant smile, he slowly turned back up to his snickering friend in the start of a slow clap. "Well played, asshole, well played." The taller of the two flourished in the sarcastic applause, making several bowing gestures. "Thank you, thank you, I try."

His brief curtain call was interrupted by the shrill sound of the warning bell, signifying that they had six minutes to get where they were going. It totally, 100% did _not_ startle Jeremy so much as to make him yelp and jump a mile, who told you _that_ ? Michael smirked at him. "Ya good, scaredy cat?" He teased, making Jeremy scowl and hiss at him. No like, actually hiss, like a cat. Instead of being quote-unquote _'intimidated'_ by his friend's quote-unquote _'warning'_ to back off, Michael pushed on his shoulder and started to walk in a direction. "Furry." He said under his breath, making Jeremy gawk and stumble to chase after him.

"Ok seriously, _WHY_ do you call me that?!" Michael turned around, walking backwards in the direction of the auditorium. "Cuz you're a furry." He stated just a little too happily, displaying the very definition of effortless confidence.

"What makes you think _that??_ "

"Remember that dolphin phase you went through?"

"Yeah, when I was like, _ten!_ "

Michael made a big shrug in a way that said _'well there ya go! That's all the evidence you need!'_ , which frustrated Jeremy. The entire walk to the auditorium (being very difficult for Jeremy given that Michael's legs were longer than his, which he was not yet used to,) was filled with banter and teasing, most of which had to do with how Michael had several advantages over Jeremy. In case any have been forgotten, they read as follows: 1.) Michael was a solid six inches taller than Jeremy, leading him to hold various objects including his own hand high in the air to the point that the shorter of the two couldn't grab them or go in for a high five without jumping, which wouldn't even guarantee success. 2.) Michael's voice didn't crack at all, unlike Jeremy's, which was just higher generally, but would also peak and dip to strange pitches when he didn't want it to (he never wanted it to). 3.) Michael had a somewhat reliable idea of where things in the building were. His older brother attended school there, meaning the six-years-younger-than-him Michael Mell had been taken to the building multiple times to see band performances that he was a part of.

The lack of vertical privileges, the lack of a deeper and more consistent vocal range, and the lack of knowledge as to the layout of the school all made Jeremy feel like the weakest link, like he was at the bottom of the food chain.

If he didn't feel like a child before, he sure as hell did now.


	2. Hormones? More Like Whore-mones, Or Whores Moan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're either homosexual or heterosexual."  
> Boi ima tell ya somethin that's gonna blow your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kinda worked on this on the side in the early stages of Chap. 17 of YCHFYGJ aaaaaand Heere it is. Also I realized the summary for both this and that end with some variation of "and Jeremy doesn't know what to do." So I guess general rule of thumb that Jeremy doesn't know what to do.

The actual assembly itself was exactly what you'd expect it to be.

Boring.

As.

HELL.

So Jeremy made no real effort to listen to the principle blab on about how this is going to be a great year at MBHS and how she's so glad to have everyone here and blah blah blah snooooorrree.

The auditorium was way bigger than the more familiar one at Middle Borough Middle, contributing even more to the _'small'_ feeling Jeremy had been experiencing. Though he hadn't quite gotten over the _'why is my friend hot'_ feeling, it was easier to cope with since the lights were dimmer and he couldn't really see Michael's face. The darker premises helped with the _'why is my friend hot'_ feeling, not so much the _'why does my friend sound sexy'_ feeling. In fact, that just made it worse. Way worse. Way worse than Jeremy would like to admit. Good thing his backpack was sitting in his lap.

He didn't want to think about it, so he instead thought about the one thing he was probably supposed to be thinking about but didn't want to: school. Or has he likes to call it, nine months of stress and torture and anxiety and overall not-good stuff.

Also hell.

He likes to call it hell sometimes too.

The counselors were saying something about the schedule. Whatever it was was sailing completely over Jeremy's head, so he looked to Michael for help. "Heeeeeelp." He stage whispered. Apparently that was the only thing he needed to hear. "It's a block schedule, it's split into A Days and B Days." However, it didn't help much. "I. Am. So confused."

Jeremy could hear Michael shifting around in the seat next to him, probably making gestures with his hands to illustrate what he was trying to explain. Then again, it was too dark to know for certain what was going on. "On A Days, you go to first, second, third and fourth period. On B Days, you go to fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth."

"So wait, does that mean...?"

"You only go to each class on every other day, including math." The inflection implied that Michael had winked. But again, dark auditorium, no real way of knowing. Jeremy blinked a few times, then shrugged. "That's weird but I'm not complaining."

"Yeah and classes are an hour and a half."

" _Now_ I'm complaining." The shorter teen corrected, looking up incredulously at Michael. "Math was bad enough doing it for sixty minutes! Now I gotta do it for _ninety_?!" The taller of the two shrugged. "Closer to ninety-five."

"AaaAHhhhh!!!"

Michael scoffed to himself and pretended to be interrogating his friend. "As I recall, you used to like math." That wasn't true, but it wasn't exactly wrong either. Sure, you could say he _'liked'_ math, but that was only because he was kinda-sorta-good at it six or however many years ago. "You know what, I kinda did." Jeremy confirmed. "And then they brought the stupid alphabet into it and my enjoyment of the subject from then on went down the toilet." He emphasized the statement by mimicking a flushing sound and pantomiming something in the swirling water, which got some chuckles out of Michael.

The assembly continued on and Jeremy was able to distract himself from, well, everything, with the effortless banter with Michael. The assembly had gotten past the part where they were teaching the school rules and had moved into entertainment. Or maybe not so much entertainment as much as it was showing what certain performing arts classes were capable of teaching students. But hey, it was more entertaining than someone droning on about no-tolerance bullying policies and no phones allowed in class unless an exception is made and blah blah blah snooooorrree.

Jazz band was about as cool as Michael made it sound after each of his brother's concerts, almost the entire audience was snapping along to the rhythm of the songs at any given time. Jeremy decided to ignore the fact that the bass sounded like pure sex and instead focused on _'how the hell can his fingers move so fast on that piano, I don't even.'_ The improv team showed its ability to leave an entire auditorium of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds in stitches. Hilarity ensued and Jeremy thought about how much fun it would be to be a part of that if he didn't have mad anxiety about making a fool of himself. (Although it seemed like they were making a point to look ridiculous, but hey, anxiety is a bitch and pretty much always gets its way.)

And for the most part, he was able to space out as the Virtuosa and Madrigal choirs sang about... Whatever they were singing about, he wasn't paying much attention at that point. They sounded good, really good, but the baritone soloist's voice ringing out so clearly through the microphone reminded him of a certain... Other... Baritone voice that he would've rather not thought about. But the soloist was done soon enough and they got back to singing as an ensemble. And for an all-too-short fifteen minutes, Jeremy had about forgotten about the embarrassment and weird teenage boy emotions of that morning.

That was until the ballroom dance class performed.

And it all came crumbling down.

It went a little something like this.

Ten guys, ten girls, dressed formally and all dolled up for the stage. The music came up, already being catchy enough to prove itself an ear worm. The former gender took the front in two separate circles, snapping into the center with one hand and closing themselves off by the shoulder with the other. The latter in a straight line in the back, with one hand on their hip and the other on their neighbor's shoulder while they showed what their mothers gave them.

As vocals came up in the song, the dancers all made a show of meeting up in the middle. The men all had their backs facing the audience, taking their own opportunity to show what  _their_ mothers gave them in what might be too tight of pants? Maybe not? The point being that it didn't leave too much up to the imagination (and Jeremy had a VERY difficult time tearing his eyes away). And the ladies, though previously hanging in the back, took center stage and had at it.

Golden lights reflected off black sequins on dress bodices and gold sequins on the waistline, emphasizing the curvature of their hourglass figure that found a million different ways to move. Cherry red lips cut into with dazzling white smiles. Ruffled black skirts that went less than halfway to bent knees. Rolling shoulders and swaying hips showing more leg than what we all thought the school's dress code allowed on students up to three years his senior.

And then Jeremy thought _'Oh God, they're hot...'_

Part of it was relieving, he still liked girls. He didn't want to say that he doubted that fact out loud, but he was having an off day, he needed validation in the one thing he'd thought he'd known all his life. Him thinking those things about Michael? Just a fluke. The guy said it himself, Jeremy's just nervous because high school is when shit starts getting real. Jeremy likes girls! That's just the way it is! He'd never looked at a boy the same way he looked at a girl.

At the same time...

Black dress shirts with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, creating a perfect V shape and showing some collarbone in the front. Those ever-present suave looks in their eyes. Lean figures showing they also had some tricks in those hips. Those very same black I-don't-know-are-they-too-tight-or-not-have-we-reached-a-verdict-on-that dress pants splaying out slightly at the bottom on students up to three years his senior.

And then Jeremy thought _'Oh God, they're hot too...'_

Ok, um, shit. Turns out he might like guys. But that doesn't disprove his previous thought, does it? The ladies were showing themselves off and Jeremy was... Well, he was feeling stuff, let's go with that. And now the dudes are doing the same thing, or their version of the same thing? Gender roles are weird. And now Jeremy is confused out of his mind because he was having a moment about the girls onstage all being intentionally sexy and honestly-what-the-hell-are-emotions-right-now. And now his fellow boys are showing off in much the same way and making all the girls in the audience squeal like the banshees they are and Jeremy is still in a state of honestly-what-the-hell-are-emotions-right-now.

But the icing on the cake?

They all came together to finish it off. The ladies were still showing off their stuff when twirling and leaning into their partners. The men were now demonstrating how effortless it was for them to support the weight of their partner, even when leaning at an angle that didn't make it look easy. Everyone was seen at every angle at some point or another. All those honestly-what-the-hell-are-emotions-right-now elements of the dancers were rolled into one big ball of internal screaming. External screaming was then heard from the rest of the audience members as the dancers made their final pose for the ending of the song.

And then Jeremy thought _'Oh God, they're all hot!'_

Michael leaned over to his shorter friend as the auditorium erupted into applause. "It's ok, I was staring at their asses too." He stage whispered, making Jeremy spin around to him in surprise and embarrassment and God-knows-what-else. "Dude! I wasn't-!" Except he was, but he wasn't about to admit that. "I'm not gay!" That made him sound offended by the very concept, back peddle, back peddle! "I mean, pff, unlike some people I know!"

_'At least I don't THINK I am! But I mean like, I don't know anymore, today's been weird and it's all your fault. I'm suing.'_

He didn't end up saying that last part.

He tried to say his previous statement in a joking tone, elbowing his friend. Luckily, he saw the humor in the moment and waved Jeremy off. The rest of the assembly went on without much of interest happening. Ya know, aside from the still ever-present honestly-what-the-hell-are-emotions-right-now... emotions. Thoughts. Feelings. Sensations. Whatevers. Soon enough, everyone was dismissed and the exits got flooded pretty quickly.

And yeah, that wasn't fun.

Lots and lots of impatient teenagers pushing each other to get through a double doorway  _with_ a divider plus the fear of getting separated from the one person you know and being lost in the crowd equals Jeremy basically clinging to Michael's arm the entire time as they shuffle along.

And yeah, that was a thing.

There were just entirely too many people.

Miraculously, the pair got to a significantly emptier section of the hall once they made it out of the auditorium and took a moment to collect their sanity. Or maybe that was just Jeremy, he was the smaller of the two after all. He sighed in exasperation. "I hate."

"You hate." Michael parroted, looking at his friend expectantly. Jeremy had to will himself to make his stare not look like it was admiring anything. "There's no followup, I just hate." The boy said, shaking his head slightly. Michael nodded his own head in understanding. "Mm, I see." The shorter boy snickered at the wording. "No you don't." He quipped. "You can't see four feet in front of you without your glasses."

Michael gave an offended look and put a hand on his heart. "Um, excuse you. It's actually three feet, so!" He gave a Z-snap to make it all the more over the top, causing Jeremy's amusement. "You're right, how could I have been so ignorant? Do forgive me for my transgressions." The paler teen deadpanned, rolling his eyes and still wearing a smile.

"Ok Brooke, just TRY and tell me Jake wasn't checking me out the whole time." The rest of Chloe's conversation with Brooke faded out as the girls flew swiftly through the hall. They were close enough to Jeremy that he got a... Um... _'Woosh?'_ Of whatever perfume they were wearing. A strange thought occurred to him as he tried to compare his height to the girls in the three quarters of a second that they were in semi-close proximity. (They were still a couple feet away from he and his friend, but that was about the closest they'd been since last school year.)

"Michael?"

"Yeah-huh?"

The shorter boy pointed to the girls a little ways in front of them, still likely talking about Jake. "How tall do you think Chloe is?" Michael looked in the direction his friend indicated and took a second before giving his estimation. "Ehh... Five-seven, five-eight?" He shrugged. Jeremy huffed. "I hate." He echoed from earlier, knowing that Chloe was  _also_ taller than him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Autocorrect changed "chuckles" to "chickens" and it got some chuckles out of me. I almost wanted to keep it as chickens. So the "corrected" sentence would've been 'He emphasized the statement by mimicking a flushing sound and pantomiming something in the swirling water, which got some chickens out of Michael.' I question the logistics of where he could've possibly been keeping those chickens but whatever.

**Author's Note:**

> I might work on this while working on 'You Can't Hide From Your Gayness, Jeremy'..... I might not..... Don't count on anything, I may not write more until I finish that. WHO KNOWS THO?!?! I CERTAINLY DON'T!!!! :D


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